GOODBYE TOM

Veronica and I are in the car.

I'm telling Veronica, "I looked up this program at Kent. It sounds good. You only have to take eight classes and they give you a certificate."

"That sounds pretty good."

"I'm going to call them tomorrow about the program."

"Found out-"

A small white cat runs in front of the car.

The car hits a bump.

Silence.

Veronica starts crying.

I think of things to tell her, like it isn't her fault. That the cat committed suicide. That she should deal with it. That she doesn't like cats anyway. But then I can't remember if she likes cats.

The radio isn't playing.

It is silent.

I don't smoke.

I don't want to bother her.

She continues to cry.

Eventually she stops.

She says softly, "I'm sorry I killed the cat."

I say in a safe calm voice, "I still like you."